


Don't Do This

by ghettoassenglishman



Series: Take my hand--Take My Whole life too [60]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Frank is a dick, Guns, Light Angst, M/M, Tumblr Ask Box Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-11
Updated: 2015-06-11
Packaged: 2018-04-04 00:13:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4119631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghettoassenglishman/pseuds/ghettoassenglishman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anon Prompt - could you do a fic where Ian tries to kill/get rid of frank and Mickey stops him</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Do This

**Author's Note:**

> Thankyou for the prompt! I hope you like this!!! Tell me what you think:
> 
> If there's any errors I will sort them tomorrow I'm a little drunk and a little tired so ahhahahaha

Frank. A deadly disease that spread like wildfire - a parasite that fed off the small fund they had left. He was a leech, a piece of trash that was dependent on alcohol to rectify his ongoing mistakes. Ian had enough.

It wasn't a surprise when Frank went for him, fists flying, nose flaring - all the weakness that built into the walls of Frank  Gallagher. But this time, Frank had gone for Debbie. The only person that waited up for him at night, that put a pillow under his head, that had believed that one day he might actually change. Ian knew that wasn't going to happen; and finally, he had enough.

He had rummaged through the kitchen drawer when the rest weren't looking, grabbing the handgun that was stuck to the back of it. Frank was leaning into Debbie, fist caught by Lips hand. Ian bared his teeth and stepped through, mind all blank and focused on the main target. His so-called father that would look better with a hole in his chest and a punch to the throat.

"Hey. Frank." Ian calls out, hands firmly clasped around the handgun, finger brushing against the trigger. The rest turned to Ian, eyes widening when they saw the weapon.

"Ian, put it down." Fiona spoke softly from the other side of the room, clinging Liam to her side.

Frank slurred his way around, eyes drooping drunkenly. "This is my fucking house-" his mouth stays open as his blurred mind worked out what Ian was pointing at him. "A gun? Good idea, my son." He goes to smack Ian's back, but Ian shoves him back with a hit of the gun.

"Fuck off, Frank." Ian spits, hands shaking slightly against the gun. Over and over he told himself he could do it. Just one split second could change things. "Get away from her." He demands, tilting his head over to Debbie.

Frank surrenders, giving Debbie a gap to run through. Lip steps forward, trying to grip to Ian's arm but the redhead shoves him off aggressively. Debbie runs behind Lip, shaking, and the elder boy tried to persuade Ian. "Come on, man, stop this. This is crazy."

Ian wipes his eye against his arm. Crazy. Yes. That's what it was. That was what he was. No change there then? He presses his gun into Frank's chest, raising his head higher. "You wanna know what's crazy? How the hell this old fuck is still breathing."

"Ian," Fiona sobs, her voice closer but Ian couldn't tell through his determined focus on shooting Frank. He hears her speaking to Liam, before the little boy scurried away. She walks over to Ian. "Ian. Just- just put the gun down. We can sort this."

Ian laughs out pathetically, shaking his head through his risen anger. "We can't sort this out. He will always be like this. Nothing has ever changed."

Lip steps forward once more, but before either of them could say anything, Carl yells something from the front door and all their heads dart to whoever walked through. Or stormed. Ian doesn't direct his gaze though, he keeps the gun pressed to Frank's chest, his body feeling stronger.

"Gallagher, what the fuck are you doing?" He hears a voice. Mickey's voice. It feels nice, a little reassuring, but still he had to do this. He had to get rid of one wrong thing in his life. All of their lives.

Mickey walks over to him, hands surrendered up. "What happened?" Ian hears Mickey ask.

"He tried to hit Debbie. Lip stopped him but then Ian came in with the gun. Just - please, I don't want Ian taken away again." Fiona pleaded, sobbing to herself.

Mickey sighed, running a hand over his face before turning to Debbie. "You alright, Debs?" He asks. Debbie nods, walking over to Carl, hugging him a little. Mickey nods his own, before stalking over to Ian and hesitated to touch his arm.

Ian jolts, eyes darting over to Mickey's with fury. "Get the fuck off me." He presses the gun harder, biting his lip a little when he felt Mickey cursing under his breath and walking up closer to his heaving body.

"Ian." Mickey pleaded, eyes changing from Frank to Ian. His hand hovers over the gun, "Give me the gun, Ian."

"No." Ian answers sharply, shaking his head bitterly.

Mickey lets out a shaky smile, looking over to Fiona and Lip who were biting their thumbs with what to do next. Swallowing harshly, Mickey tries again. "Come on, man. You don't want to do this." He tries to bargain, but Ian looks like a totally different person.

"That's the thing. I've wanted to do this for years." Ian nearly chokes, hand beginning to shake against his hold of the gun. His eyes start to glaze, heart started to pound. He could do this.

Frank scoffs, "Is that any way to talk about your father-"

Mickey swings his fist and knocks Frank in the face with a punch. "Shut the fuck up." He turns back to Ian, resting his hand against Ian's damp neck to draw his attention from the point of trigger. "Remember when I wanted to kill Frank, pull his teeth and fingernails out and dump him in the river?" He asks, looking straight into Ian's eyes.

"Oh, how exciting." Frank mumbles, swaying against floor as the blood ran down his face from the furious hit.

Lip gives him a look, before they all saw Ian nod towards Mickey. The redhead gulps, trying to rebuild the confidence he had just moments ago. There was something about Mickey that made all his bones go weak, made all of his walls fall down.

"Well, I couldn't go through with that shit because your stupid voice kept repeating in my head like a fucking broken record." Mickey confesses, hand still hovering over the gun, ready to pull Ian out of it. Ian's face washes over with hurt and what looked like love - Mickey breathed out before continuing, "That's what I'm doing now, alright, I'm getting you out of this."

Ian nearly falls for it, before he shakes his head, again. "No. Just stop it."

Mickey grunts, before drawing Ian's attention back to him with a stern voice. "No. You fucking stop it. This is not you, Ian. You can't kill a man and you know it."

The rest go silent. They all knew it was true. But they didn't know what Ian was capable of.

"I can." Ian stutters in a croak. He bites back a sob that threatened to leave his body, pointing his gun back at the target.

Mickey smooths his head over Ian's cheek, watching as the redhead closed his eyes at the soft, familiar touch. Mickey shuffles on his feet, licking his lips as he formed the right words. "Ian, I can't fucking lose you again, not to this. Not to him." Frank lets out a grunt, but Mickey couldn't give a shit.

Ian opens his eyes, tear falling down his pale cheek. "Mickey, I can't, I just need to-" his words fell apart, hand still up and pointed towards Frank. His whole body shook, and he took one look towards his family and felt ashamed. How could he do this, again?

Mickey's hand slowly fled across the gun, wrapping around it as he gently pulled it out of Ian's hand. Everyone sighed in relief as Ian let go, even Frank sighed out for his own life. Mickey chucked the gun towards Lip, before pulling a shaky and unstable Ian into his arms. Ian falls into it, hands squeezing against Mickey's back as he wound himself around him. Mickey sighed into his hair, running a hand back and forth as the younger man shook and cried against his chest.

Lip chucks Frank out, silently thanking Mickey as he placed the gun back into the drawer. Ian's still hiding himself into Mickey's chest as Fiona walks past, mouthing "thankyou", squeezing his shoulder with gratefulness. Mickey didn't mind all that, all the thanks, he just wanted Ian go be out.

"Come on, man, lets go up." He pulls Ian with him, kissing into his hair as he led him towards the stairs. The others called out with "Night" or "love you, Ian." And left them to it. Mickey pulls Ian into the small, shared bedroom, laying him against the bed as he shed himself from his jacket.

Ian pulls his arms around his face. "I'm sorry, Mick. I'm really fucking sorry." He apologised, voice barely Audible. Mickey rushes over, sitting Ian up and standing between his legs, hands cupping his face.

"Shut the fuck up, would you?" Mickey laughs a little, thumbs stroking against his cheeks. "Its fine. You're fine. And even if he deserved it, Frank didn't fucking die."

Ian rests his forehead against Mickey's chest, letting out a long sigh. "I don't know what I was thinking. He just- he was going to hit Debbie, and I couldn't help it. The only person he had hit is me." His hands grip to the back of Mickey's black-tank, his breath hitched.

"Hey." Mickey calls out to him, lifting his head up so Ian would look up at him. "You shouldn't be hit either, that old fuck deserves what comes to him. You shooting him was the easy way out, let him suffer." He laughs a little, chewing at his lip.

Ian lets him lay him down against the sheets, crawling beneath the covers, shedding himself from his shirt. "What if he does it again?" Ian asks, still worried that Frank had hurt Debbie in some way. Mickey flicks off the lamp, sliding in next to Ian in the small single bed.

"It won't. I'll make sure of it." Mickey answers with confidence. Frank wasn't going to hurt any of them anymore. Those days were over. He turns Ian on his side, his back facing him as he pulled Ian against his chest. Usually, Ian would be the big spoon but it was evident that he needed this.

Their legs tangled, Mickey's arm hooking around Ian's waist, stroking softly against the smooth skin. Ian sighs, content, he intertwines his hand with Mickey's, resting it against his chest. Turning his head a little, he asks. "What are you going to do?" Because it was clear Mickey had been planning something for the last five minutes.

"Don't you worry about it." Mickey kisses the back of his head, resting his chin against the top of Ian's shoulder.

 Ian wants to say something else - maybe those three words- but he's not sure if he could say them yet. "Mickey- I, uh, I-"

"I know, Gallagher." Mickey cuts him off, smiling into the skin of Ian's shoulder. Ian chuckles a little - because that was Mickey's three words. It felt amazing to feel and hear those words, despite how destructive they might be.

"Get some sleep, Ian." Mickey whispers, pressing himself closer against Ian's back. His hot breath skims Ian's neck, making him feel alive, and that he wasn't so numb anymore.

Ian nods, sighing out. He loved this. "Thanks, Mick. For everything."

It was as if Mickey just inhaled it, absorbed the words and let them flee through his body. He presses his lips against the joint of Ian's shoulder, leaving his lips to rest there. "You don't need to thank me, Gallagher."


End file.
